


drought

by Noa



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Dirk drools over Bro, How Do I Tag, M/M, Requested fic, Short, Summer, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noa/pseuds/Noa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro literally brings all the boys to the yard. And the girls. And the dogs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyuutier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuutier/gifts).



It’s excruciatingly hot.

And while Dirk realizes that focusing on the temperature isn’t going to make it any easier for him to handle, he can’t quite bring himself to think of anything else. It’s with a healthy amount of self-pity that he shifts in the plastic chair propped up outside, pulling a disgusted face at no one in particular when his sweat-slick legs stick to the seat. Gross.

For a brief moment Dirk envies Dave. While the cabins of his bro’s screenwriting camp are unlikely to sport proper air-conditioning, at least Dave is safe from the unforgiving Texan sun. Whether or not he’s actually better off Dirk doesn’t know, but it fits his current _woe is me_ mood too well to assume that he is. It’s not like Dave’s around anyway – Dirk could throw around some empty resentment.

He yawns, stretches out his overheated muscles, and when he reopens his eyes he’s faced with a huge glass filled mostly with ice cubes.

“Here,” Bro says. “Seriously kid, you could at least make an effort to not shrivel up and die.” Bro’s hand drips with cool condense clinging to the glass he’s holding and Dirk suddenly realizes that he is _really damn thirsty._

“Thanks,” he mumbles, using both hands to take the enormous cup from Bro’s hands. Bro just makes a short _hm_ sound, muttering something about inheriting bad habits as he disappears back into the tool shed.

Dirk stares after him over the rim of his glass and considers the pros of insufferably hot days like these.

Pros shaped like Bro forgoing his shirt, dusty-blond hair kept from sticking to his face with a rolled up bandana only _he_ could pull off. It’s absolutely ridiculous. Dirk watches him emerge from the shed holding a no longer broken sprinkler head. He has to duck his head a little not to bump into the top of the door frame and Dirk sighs around a sip of ice-cold water.

He’s just so goddamn _fit_. Whenever he mows the lawn the whole block immediately goes to walk their dogs. Bro literally brings all the boys to the yard. And the girls. And the dogs.

And then Dirk gets to watch Bro play with the German Shepherd belonging to the single dad living right around the corner, gets to watch him flash impossibly attractive grins as he purposely loses a game of tug-o-war when the overexcited dog finds Bro’s discarded shirt and claims it for herself. It’s cute- it’s fucking _adorable_ , but it’s not the dog Dirk’s looking at.

It’s the way Bro’s well-defined muscles ripple under his tanned skin, how his whole torso _shimmers_ , stinging sunlight made soft with how delicately it dances over his abs. It’s unreal, the jut of his hipbones, the strong V-line leading down into the top of his sagging jeans. The view’s not ruined when Bro turns around either, from his broad shoulders to his Venus dimples and _Christ._

Dirk drags more water from his glass. The ice cubes have all melted by now.

He knows that most of Bro’s DNA is hidden in his own biological code somewhere, but it wouldn’t hurt to actually see proof one of these days. Dirk is nowhere near as tall as he’d like to be and no matter how much protein he eats, no matter how many weights he painstakingly lifts, his body remains all gangly limbs attached to an embarrassingly petite frame. He feels like a teenager past their expiration date – he’s nineteen for fuck’s sake, when were those Adonis genes finally going to kick in?

Dirk is so ready to graduate from his uncomfortably awkward proportions into the marble-worthy perfection Bro’s got going on. He’d flirt with all of the dads. Play with all of the dogs. Stare at himself in the mirror rather than getting all slack mouth and blown pupils whenever Bro _breathes_ – oh, who was he kidding. He could reincarnate into whatever Greek God looks best in a tank top and still not even  _consider_ taking his eyes off of Bro.

Bro, who is currently walking towards him, the top of his off-brand boxer briefs peeking out from underneath his hip-riding jeans. Dirk quickly drains the rest of his water.

“What’s got you all starry-eyed,” Bro asks, looking Dirk over with a frown. “I called your ass over three times.”

“Sorry,” Dirk deadpans. “Got lost in thought.”

Bro sighs like it can’t be helped. “Yeah, I figured. Get over here, I need your help.”

Dirk moves to detach himself from the small plastic chair and sets his empty glass down. Bro is already returning to the shed, leaving Dirk to admire the downright _sinful_ way those jeans hug his ass but then he turns around again, sudden enough to make Dirk freeze.

“Oh, and you might wanna lose the shirt. Shit’s about to get wet,” Bro adds in afterthought.

Dirk swallows thickly, and thanks his stars that Bro remains blissfully unaware of the perpetual drought Dirk feels inside.

**Author's Note:**

> May this be your sprinkler on a sweltering Summer day.


End file.
